We're All Just Dancers, On The Devil's Dancefloor

Keahi takes it slowly, trying to show the male that she not a threat while also trying to be respectful of his space. He clears his throat, apologizing to her and the red woman offers him a soft smile and gentle shake of her head, saying, “No need to apologize, sir.” The way that the gray wolf speaks, reminds the red woman of some highborn wolves that she has met since coming to Boreas. Her head tilts slightly, blue eyes emanating sympathy to the male as he speaks, watching as a wistful sigh escapes through his nose. Ah, he is a gentleman, introducing himself and then asking for her’s. His manners and words hold a polished edge that are not present in his appearance and the red woman wonders what misfortune has befallen him.

With a respectful bow of her head, the red wolf says, “Pleasure to meet you Lothaire Morei, my name is Keahi Mogotsi. I am the Diplomat to the pack known as the Armada. We live not too far North from here.” Her tail wags lazily behind her as Keahi stops a respectful distance from Lothaire and she settles on her haunches as she asks, “You seem a little worse for wear Lothaire. May I ask what happened?” The red woman’s kind smile never leaves her lips as she listens to what he has to say.


"Keahi Mogotsi"